


perfect timing

by deanpendragon



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Hair Kink, M/M, they don't like......walk in or anything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-13
Updated: 2016-11-13
Packaged: 2018-08-30 16:01:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8539411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deanpendragon/pseuds/deanpendragon
Summary: Tsukishima's parents are very punctual people.





	

**Author's Note:**

> so i noticed that tsukishima receives literally all the blowjobs i write. this is my way of amending that phenomenon which is .. //coughs awkwardly// pretty telling actually. ALSO it's tsukkiyama day so!!!!!!! (i say, as if every day isn't tsukkiyama day for me) !!! !!!!
> 
> pls enjoy.

“It looks so pretty. I don’t even care if it’s not very effective because, Tsukki, look at the _stars_.”

“Yes. It’s very beautiful.”

“You’re not even looking.”

Tsukishima sets his phone face down on the bed between them and leans over.

“Okay. Show me.”

“Hang on, it’s his turn.”

Tsukishima makes a tiny sound. Tadashi soaks up the warmth of their shoulders together as he watches the opposing Smeargle smack his Ivysaur with vines, which doesn’t do _shit_ , and Tadashi thinks Ace Trainer Brooke needs to get her shit together immediately. His finger hovers over where he knows the option for _Meteor Mash_ lies on the console’s screen. Tsukishima waits patiently.

“Ah!” chirps Tadashi when it pops up. “See! Look, look.”

Stars prance across the darkened screen and now that he’s got Tsukishima’s full attention, Tadashi feels silly for making him watch. A yellow fist twirls over the Smeargle’s bouncing sprite and stars spray outward from it. They twinkle to the corners of the screen and fade completely. Tadashi feels the quiet look Tsukishima gives him before he sees it, all lowered lashes and gleaming gold.

“I guess it’s not as cool as I thought,” Tadashi admits before Tsukishima tells him as much.

“It’s cool,” says Tsukishima.

Tadashi brightens. “Oh. You think so too, Tsukki? I’m not sure if it’s the rush of stars or the way the screen gets a little darker to emphasize them or what, but it’s always been one of my favorite moves. So pretty.”

With a delicate pinky, Tsukishima points to the half-fainted Smeargle.

“I thought those were usually white.”

“They are, yeah. But this one’s a shiny, so it’s yellow. It’s neat, I think, but I feel like if I were to have a shiny—and I _do_ —but if I were to get another, I’d want it to be something cooler than a Smeargle. Maybe a Furret because they’re pink. Or a Charizard because they’re black, or a Kirlia or maybe even a Sandshrew, although they’re not that different—”

“Yamaguchi.”

Tadashi halts. “What? Too much?”

Tsukishima shakes his head and Tadashi blinks up at the glare on the frames of his glasses.

“I want to suck you off. Right now.”

The cheery music from his game fades out in favor of a long, drawn-out beep, like he’s suddenly developed tinnitus. Tadashi blinks and blinks. Tsukishima stares calmly down at him. Tadashi hardly registers the soft kiss Tsukishima plants at the corner of his mouth before leaning away again.

“Can I?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Tadashi breathes.

Tsukishima stands from the bed, the very picture of grace, complete with a halo of sunlight that streams in from the bedroom window. Tadashi scrambles up after him like Tsukishima will revoke the offer if he isn’t quick enough. With impossible ease, Tsukishima backs him into the wall by the bed.

“The time,” he gasps, catching a glimpse of the wall clock before Tsukishima tilts his head and blocks it from view. “Five minutes, Tsukki, they’ll be home in _five minutes_.”

“Are you assuming I can’t get you off in five minutes?” Tsukishima asks, affronted.

“No, I just, I’m, _ah_ —” Tadashi blurts as Tsukishima pets his fingers over the inside of his thigh, “It’s just that— _oh_ , okay, yeah—it’s just that your parents are very _punctual_ people, and—”

Mouth to his ear, Tsukishima mumbles, “I could make you come in three, if I wanted.”

“Oh my _god_ ,” squeaks Tadashi, absolutely weak.

He inhales sharply as Tsukishima presses a thigh between his legs. Tadashi is _wrecked_ by Tsukishima’s thighs on a daily basis, constantly—the _swish_ of mesh fabric over pale skin when he wears his uniform shorts, the way the denim of his jeans hugs them _just so_ , the smooth warmth of them beneath Tadashi’s sandpaper tongue.

“Already enjoying this, I see.”

“Tsukki,” he rasps.

“Say please,” Tsukishima teases.

He presses his thigh more firmly against him. Tadashi ruts forward.

“Please, oh my god, Tsukki.”

“Wrong name.”

“ _Kei_ ,” Tadashi gasps, “please, on your knees in front of me, please.”

He tries not to be distressed by the sudden lack of pressure against his dick because he knows what’s coming, knows that it’s better, slicker and hotter than that. Tsukishima’s knees scratch over the carpet as he shuffles closer. He licks a stripe up the inside of the same thigh he’d groped earlier, nose nudging up the leg of Tadashi’s shorts as he goes. Tadashi pins his palms to the wall at his back. He hangs his head, heavy with lewd, dripping thoughts, to watch Tsukishima.

“Bet I could do it through your shorts, even,” he mumbles and presses his mouth over the bulge in Tadashi’s pants. He heaves a hot breath through the fabric, eyes fluttering closed at the _tick-tick-tick_ of Tadashi’s nails scrabbling against the wall.

“You could,” Tadashi agrees and squeezes his eyes shut, “you know you could.”

“Then I will, maybe,” decides Tsukishima.

“No!” Tadashi insists, eyes flying open again. “I mean, um, no—I—I want, uh—”

“Out with it, Yamaguchi.”

“I want you to take me in your mouth, and, and your tongue and—so wet,” he babbles.

“Okay,” Tsukishima agrees easily, lips still pressed over Tadashi’s clothed dick. “It’s what you want.”

“Yeah, _yes_ , oh my god, Tsukki—Kei, that’s what I want.”

Tsukishima curls his fingers over Tadashi’s waistband and exposes him— _finally_ —already so hard that Tsukishima looks proud at the sight of it, awed and a little flushed in the cheeks. Tadashi pants laboriously as Tsukishima presses a kiss the side of his cock.

“You’re so big,” he praises him.

“Nngh,” replies Tadashi, twitching beneath Tsukishima’s mouth.

Tsukishima lifts his hand to stroke his fingertips lightly down the side of his dick to the base. He wraps a steady hand around Tadashi and pumps once, experimentally, just a rev to sputter the engine. Tadashi gasps and squirms in his grip. 

“Not good enough for you, is it?” Tsukishima wonders, a grin prying at his lips.

“Of course, yeah, anything, _anything_ you do is good enough, it’s just that—”

He presses his mouth to the side of Tadashi’s dick again and prompts, “That what?”

“Yeah, _that_ —I can’t stop thinking about your mouth, Tsukki, how it feels when I’m inside. Love it so much.”

“When you put it like that…” Tsukishima trails off.

He drags his mouth along Tadashi until, pursed, it presses against the flushed head of his dick. Tadashi wonders how warm it feels on Tsukishima’s lips. He gasps as Tsukishima takes the head between them and sucks it softly, teeth still clenched so Tadashi feels the fronts of them on the very tip of his dick. His palms tap the wall like a warning. Tsukishima absolutely _smirks_ around him and releases his jaw so Tadashi can slide in, right over his tongue. All the warmth and wetness he craves buzzes over Tadashi’s most sensitive skin all at once, and it would almost be too much if it weren’t for the slight distraction of Tsukishima petting his fingers over the backs of Tadashi’s shaky knees.

Tsukishima pulls back a little to tongue at the underside. He rubs over raised veins and hot, hot skin as Tadashi breathes and pants and sighs and gasps above him. The wall offers no grasp so Tadashi swings his arms forward and digs his fingers into Tsukishima’s blond hair. In reply, Tsukishima caresses further up the backs of Tadashi’s legs and presses his fingertips just below the curve of Tadashi’s ass. Tadashi shifts back to get more pressure from them but whines when his dick slides further out of Tsukishima’s wet mouth as a result.

Hands in Tsukishima’s hair, Tadashi pulls him closer. The desperate act surprises even Tadashi and he looks down to receive Tsukishima’s inevitable glare, but there isn’t one—just a pair of fogged up glasses and Tsukishima’s hot, eager mouth inching further down his cock. The quickened breaths Tsukishima forces through his nose ghost over Tadashi’s skin and he shivers. As if to soothe him, Tsukishima brings a hand to the base of his cock and jerks him once, twice, erratically until his pace matches that of his fingers that stroke the back of Tadashi’s trembling thigh.

“Hands in your hair,” Tadashi pants, “you like—you like this, Tsukki?”

Tsukishima pulls off his cock and Tadashi watches the string of drool that connects the tip of it to Tsukishima’s bottom lip. It snaps and Tadashi blinks. Tsukishima doesn’t answer and instead leans forward and nips at the skin below Tadashi’s navel, making Tadashi yelp and grind forward, dick so soaked in Tsukishima’s spit that it drags easily against the side of his neck.

At that, Tsukishima makes a small sound that rips through Tadashi as if it were an explosion rather than a groan stifled by the taut, tan skin of his stomach. His dick pulses. 

“Mouth, more of your mouth, Ts—Kei, please, it feels so good,” he begs and for good measure, adds, “pretty _please_. I’m almost—I’m almost gonna come.”

Tsukishima looks up at him, one lens of his glasses more severely fogged up than the other.

“You want to come in my mouth, Yamaguchi?” he wonders.

“ _Yes,_ ” Tadashi breathes so quickly that for a second, he thinks it's his desperation that fogs Tsukishima’s glasses so badly. His fingers tighten and loosen compulsively in his soft hair and he goes on, “Only your mouth, only that, please. You should let me. Please _,_ let me.”

Tsukishima grants him this. He licks a lazy zigzag up the side of Tadashi’s cock before he sucks him down again, the inside of his cheeks impossibly soft as they cradle hard, throbbing skin. Tadashi doesn’t miss the way Tsukishima takes him deeper each time shaking fingers clench strands of his blond hair. His tongue, flat and wide, rubs insistently at the same inch of Tadashi’s cock over and over again until it’s raw; until it feels _so good_ that Tadashi’s sure he’ll never forgive Tsukishima if he stops now.

“ _God_ , yes, there, there, there,” he chants and Tsukishima complies dutifully.

He takes it in stride when Tadashi juts his hips forward and his cock slides deeper into his mouth than Tadashi thought Tsukishima could handle. The extra bit of slick, buzzing warmth is too much. Tadashi decides he needs Tsukishima’s eyes and releases his hair to pluck the glasses from his face as he shakes, dropping them completely when Tsukishima provides the very _slightest_ graze of teeth, almost like a punishment. They bounce off the carpet and Tsukishima stares squarely up at him. Tadashi knows that look: _be careful with those._

“Sorry, Tsukki. Sorry, Tsukki, sorry,” he babbles, stuck on a loop now in the very same way Tsukishima’s tongue rubs back and forth, back and forth over the same spot on his cock. “Can’t wait to come in your mouth, Tsukki, so warm and nice and—Kei, I’m going to, please let me, please don’t make me pull out, I’m going to—”

A tremor of sizzling warmth quakes in Tadashi’s thighs, shooting through his stomach and chest. It overtakes him, hands gripping at Tsukishima’s hair and Tsukishima’s mouth stays hot and safe around him. Tadashi comes down his throat, he knows it, he _feels_ it as his heart drums wildly in his chest and he pants around the barrage of whiny moans that bubble from his throat.

Tsukishima only pulls off once he settles. He shuffles back in anticipation of the way Tadashi crumples to the floor in front of him. And Tadashi certainly crumples, useless legs sprawled on either side of Tsukishima and ass sore from how heavily he meets the carpet.

“Good?” Tsukishima asks shortly, eyes bright and dilated.

Tadashi nods with enthusiasm until he regains enough sense of mind to move again. He scoots forward until Tsukishima sits on his knees between his legs and, fingers still retaining a slight quake, he plucks Tsukishima’s discarded glasses from the carpet. Tsukishima blinks as he returns them gently to his face.

“Thank you,” he says.

Tadashi smacks his hands to his cheeks and pulls Tsukishima in for a hearty kiss. The echo of a latch resounds in the quiet house and they both blink their eyes open. Tsukishima pulls back with red lips.

“Perfect timing.”


End file.
